The Blue View - Windlass Controllers

As I write this, we are in Suriname, moored near the tiny town of Domburg. A couple of nights ago, an American catamaran sailed in after a passage from Brazil. When they tried to anchor, their windlass jammed with the anchor partially deployed. They had just enough rode out to snag on the bottom, but not enough to hold the boat in place. As they tried to fix the problem, they ended up hitting another boat, then getting thoroughly entangled with it. After a bit of spirited language and a few hours of work, they were finally able to get clear of the other boat and anchor. There were a few rookie mistakes involved, but I shan't pass any judgments – Lordy, we've certainly made our share of mistakes along the way.

It did, however, remind me of the love-hate relationship we have with our windlass, that big, fat hunk of metal that raises and lowers the anchor. With the size of our anchor and the amount of chain we use, it is a very important piece of gear, and something we depend on. When it is working, we love it, but it's a royal pain when it isn't.

In a calm, flat anchorage, I might still be able to haul in a couple hundred pounds of dead weight by hand (I see Marcie smirking about this claim), but it would be a struggle. An alternative would be to use a line attached to a cockpit winch, and winch the chain onto the deck, 25 feet at a time. It would be slow and messy, but the winch would get the job done. When conditions change, however, and we need to leave in a hurry, a working windlass on Nine of Cups becomes essential. We both remember trying to leave a deep anchorage at Tristan de Cunha when the wind shifted and the anchorage became untenable. We were taking waves over the bow and when our venerable old windlass crapped out, Marcie struggled to keep us off the rocks while I hauled in all 250 feet (75m) of chain and our 110 lb. (50kg) anchor. It took hours. Not something I'd want to do on a routine basis.

I've devoted a couple of blogs to windlasses and how we replaced ours. Just as important is the windlass controller. The windlass isn't much good if the switches that operate it aren't reliable. We've tried several different methods, some of which worked well and some of which didn't.

When we bought Nine of Cups, she had a heavy-duty Maxwell windlass that was operated by two deck mounted foot switches. The system was simple and straightforward – when you stepped on one of the foot switches, the contacts of the switch connected the 12 VDC to the windlass motor. This approach, while simple, had two problems.

The first problem was the 150 amps of current that passed through the switch contacts. In the salty environment in which the switches live, conducting that much current through the switch contacts caused a lot of arcing, which in turn, caused the contacts to pit and deteriorate. I think I replaced those switches once a year for the first three years we owned Cups before I got wise to the problem.

In the next iteration, I used a windlass motor control module. In this option, only a relatively small 3-5 amps of current passes through the foot switches, and the solid state relays of the motor controller handle the 150 amps required by the windlass. The foot switches now last many years instead of just one.

The second problem was damage to the deck core from water ingress. Whoever originally installed the deck switches did nothing to protect the core except caulk under the foot switches. Eventually, water made its way into the core, causing the core to deteriorate and the bond between the core and deck to weaken. When we were in New Zealand a few years ago, I removed the top of the foredeck, replaced the wet, damaged core, epoxied it and the deck back together, then fared and repainted the whole area. The job turned out well, and is probably stronger than when new, but it was a lot of work. It would have been a lot easier to prevent the damage to begin with.

Any time I drill a hole in the deck, I do what I can to protect the core from water damage. If I am using self tapping screws, I first drill a hole in the proper location. The hole should be the proper size for the screw and slightly longer than the screw length. Then I increase the hole size by .25” (6mm), about 75% of the depth that the screw will penetrate the core. I will want to remove the screw and fitting later, so I coat both with wax or silicone grease. Then I use a Q-tip to paint the inside of the hole with epoxy. As it is kicking, I mix a batch of thickened epoxy, about the consistency of ketchup, and pour it into the hole. Then I position the fitting and screw the fastener in place. I use just enough pressure to hold the fitting in place. Once the epoxy has cured, I remove the parts, caulk underneath the fitting, and screw it back in place, tightening the screws enough to make a good seal, but not enough to squeeze all the caulk out from under the fitting.

Any hole that penetrates the bottom layer of the deck, like the hole for the foot switch for example, should be temporarily sealed from the bottom to prevent the epoxy from dripping down into the interior. If it is a small hole, I make a plug from modeling clay. If it is a large hole, I attach a piece of scrap plywood to the underside of the deck using a glue gun. I use only enough to tack the wood in place, so it's not too difficult to remove later. Then I seal any gaps between the plywood and the lower surface of the deck with modeling clay. Next, I paint the core with epoxy to wet it out, and give it a coat of thickened epoxy. In this case, the epoxy should be thicker – maybe the consistency of peanut butter, to keep it from sagging too much.

All this sounds like a lot of work, but the hour you spend now will save a few weeks work repairing a spongy deck core down the road.

Stay tuned – in the next blog I'll talk about making a handheld windlass controller, and, if you aren't too “windlass controller-ed” out by then, I'll show you my nifty digital chain counter.

Marcie's comment: “Geek sailors of the world unite!”

The Blue View - Replacing a Halyard

One of the problems we had while crossing the Indian Ocean last year was a head sail halyard that parted. It starts at the deck, enters the mast about six feet up (2m) on the port side, exits the top of the mast and is attached to the head sail. We had last replaced it several years ago in New Zealand, and apparently it had been chafing against the main halyard all these years. Unfortunately, the spot that chafed was inside the mast at a location that never sees the light of day except on the rare occasion the head sail is removed, so we didn't see it coming and it eventually chafed through and parted. Fortunately, we were near the end of our passage and were able to furl the head sail and complete the passage with the staysail and reefed main.

Usually when we replace a halyard, we can use the old halyard as a messenger. We attach the end of the new halyard to the end of the old one, and as the old halyard is pulled out, the new one follows (See the Blue View – Reeving a New Halyard). In this case, however, the old one had parted and pulled out of the top of the mast. We wouldn't have wanted to use the old halyard as a messenger anyway, because if we routed the new halyard along the same path as the old, it too would chafe through in a few years. Better to route a new messenger.

Both the entry and exit points for the halyard were close to the port side, so we wanted the new halyard to lie close to the mast on the port side. If we simply dropped the new messenger down into the mast, it quite likely would foul one of the other halyards inside the mast. To avoid this, we put Nine of Cups on a heel to port. We attached a long line from the spinnaker halyard to a stout cleat on the end of a slip a few boat lengths away and using a cockpit winch, we tensioned the spinnaker halyard until Cups had a definite list to port. Had we been at anchor, we would have swung the boom out to the port side and hoisted the dinghy and engine from the end of it. Together, they weigh about 200 lbs – if this wasn't enough weight, we would have partially filled it with water.

We removed the stainless trim piece from the entry hole for the halyard in the side of the mast, then I rigged up a messenger using 1/8” (3mm) line and a few fishing weights. I attached the opposite end of the messenger to the new halyard, then went up the mast. I lowered the messenger over the masthead block and down into the mast.

Marcie positioned herself at the halyard exit point and watched for the end of the messenger to appear. Using a bent wire, she fished the weights on the end of the messenger out of the mast. Then it was a simple matter to pull the remaining messenger and the attached halyard out of the bottom exit point on the mast as I fed the line from the top.

All that was left to do was reattach the trim piece and whip the halyard ends.

The Blue View - Fender Boards

Some of the most interesting places we've visited also had some of the roughest piers and wharves to tie up to. Hobart, Tasmania is a good example. The downtown wharf is a wonderful place to visit, with great old buildings, a plethora of pubs and chandleries, and a wonderful seafaring ambiance, all within walking distance of the waterfront. Unfortunately, we were required to tie up to a commercial wharf with pilings that probably dated back to Flinders' visit in 1798. Lying against the rough pilings, especially with the large tidal swings there, would have been a problem for our topsides and varnish had it not been for a couple of fender boards.

Fenders are the inflatable bumpers that are hung from the sides of boats to protect the topsides from getting scratched or damaged at a dock or jetty. They work well when lying against the typical marina jetty or pleasure boat dock. They are, however, pretty much useless when used to fend the boat off from a commercial wharf or jetty. They aren't wide enough to stay between the boat and a piling, and may be chafed and ruined by a concrete wharf. Some wharves have huge tires attached to them which provide protection for ships and large fishing vessels, but which are much too large, coarse and dirty to lie against a sailboat. Attempting to use fenders when tied alongside these huge tires is not a good idea either. With harbor surge and tidal changes, the tires will likely snag the typical sailboat fender, and may break the line holding, it or even rip the stanchion out of the deck. In addition, the usual tar, muck and oil deposits on a commercial wharf will quickly coat those pretty yacht fenders with a sticky black residue, which will, in no time, get ground into the boat's topsides.

Fender boards are large planks of wood that are suspended between the boat's fenders and those nasty commercial wharves. We have two dedicated fender boards that have kept Cups' topsides reasonably intact at dozens of some of the nastiest wharves and docks you can imagine. We also have three more planks that are primarily used as supports for our fuel cans, but could be drafted into action as fender boards should the need arise.

To make our fender boards, I started with two 2x10x7 (50mm x 250mm x 2.1m) planks. I drilled a couple of 3/4” (18mm) holes in the planks about four inches (~100mm) from the ends. Then I cut four 8 foot (2.4m) lengths of ½” (12mm) line and attached them to the fender boards using bowlines.

One of our friends has a much better method. He started with the same type planks and drilled a 1-1/2” (37mm) hole about three inches (75mm) in and three inches down from the upper corners of each plank. Then he drilled a vertical 3/4” (18mm) hole from the upper edge of the plank and down to the 1-1/2” hole. The line was fed down the vertical hole and pulled out the the 1-1/2” hole. He tied a stopper knot in the end of the line and pulled it back until the knot was taut in the hole. It was more work, but there was no possibility of the line chafing against the piling, whereas in my version, the bowline might rub against the piling.

Before deploying the fender boards, we make a reconnaissance of the wharf to determine where, how many and how high we need them. Marcie attaches the fenders, then secures the fender boards in place. We use either two or three fenders behind each fender board, depending on the wind and surge.

The next part of the plan is for me to maneuver Cups to within a foot or so of the wharf and come to a stop while Marcie lassos a cleat or two. Rarely do I manage this. More often, I come to a nice stop 8 feet off the wharf or I come in too close and snag one of the fender boards on a tire or piling while still moving forward with interesting results. We've provided entertainment in a variety of exotic places around the world, but eventually we get tied up.